Serendipitous Discipleship
The greatest symphony ever written...
For the second time in three months, a nefarious actor would compromise our bank account. This time it was via PayPal. The supposed shield, the iron tower between dark and light, the perceived barrier of protection. I would begin to make the calls, ask the questions and wait, again, for a card replacement. But on this magnificent digital highway of God, I would stop flat exhausted at our personal banking and tell myself, it’s time to get on with the day. I sat for a few minutes and asked myself if I should call our one and only credit card company. Mastercard had not been compromised as far as I knew. Nah. Go shower.
The nagging feeling persisted.
Divinely orchestrated, she answered the phone. I could tell she worked from home. Her voice was kind, soft, efficient, and personable. We discovered five teeny one cent charges pending. I said, “oh they are fishing.” “Indeed,” she said.
Indeed.
A hold was placed, card canceled, etc., all done within five minutes. I repeated what I had already said to all the other bank employees, past and present, “it can sure stick the knife in when you’re going through other things. It happened a few times when we were at our lowest …the devil is good.” She said, “indeed.” I said, “our family blew apart in 2020 and we couldn’t see two of our grandchildren for over two years.” Not sure why I decided to say this to a random person from Barclay’s Bank. Like a storied vessel, far out in the ocean, it was there to tell.
Everything was compromised during those years. Every. single. thing. hurt.
Silence.
Then, “I’m sorry, I have five minutes left until I’m off the clock and this, (gasp, sniffles, higher voice), this, is so unprofessional of me. I’m a single mom, oh I see I’m about your age, a little younger, and my only son hasn’t let me see my grandchild for a year. My heart aches so bad I don’t know what to do with it”
“I can feel your love. I know this anguish. Do you know God?”
“yessss, I do.” (my banker was sniffling hard)
“You are more than the water running down your face, the shame you feel, the questions you have, the why me’s every single day and night. The tears that comatose and wake you choking in the middle of the night. I am those tears. I am here and I don’t know you, but God did this today. He is everything and everywhere and you know what the problem with the world is? and always has been? Very few trust Him. Even those of us that say we do, don’t.”
“Indeed, yes.”
“I promise you, this might not ever resolve itself, but if you let go, let God, trust Him in this darkness, see how much He has for you, follow Him, and let His love go before you, guide you out of this misery, He will bring you up and out of this valley (Habakkuk 3:19). He will show you who you are, what you are made of and you will love your son, your grandson, your family, in the Light of His presence. Your pain will be washed over with the beauty of them. It might not be with them, but from afar, as you create your own legacy, your God-given purpose. An offering to Him, a treasure for generations to come. A whole loving human being who knows how to guard their heart closely, but not too close. A person who accepts the downfalls of herself and the downfalls of those she has no charge over. I know this is your turning point, because it was mine. Slowly but surely God brought people into my life to walk hand in hand through this personal, intricate scripted story. It is the story of millions and you are not alone. You are not alone.”
“I don’t know what is happening but I know you are my family now and I needed this and I am writing down everything you are saying and the information, the book - I have to stop the crying, I am sick all the time, I love you and I don’t know you…” (sobs)
“You are my family too. I am here. But most of all He is here and you are going to be okay. You must not beg, plead, or bargain with your son. That is the work of the devil. Pray, and be guided by love. If anyone told me I would overcome and end up where I am today, I would never have believed them. Thank God for the experience? I would have been remiss to think I could thank Him for so much pain. The pain which can pour His love from your bones out to others, forsaking yourself on this mission, while loving yourself for who you are. It will rectify your misery, transcend your downward trajectory into uplifting beauty and discernment for what is true and good. You will stand a brave warrior in this wind and a fresh fire will grow inside of you.”
We cried together, imagined virtual hugs and said our goodbyes. The compromised card holder and the lonely banker on opposite sides of the country.
There are no coincidences in life.
All of this is God’s plan and His friendship with us. I could not have conceived any of what happened in 2020 and how He has stretched me, including here at Lighthouse. With my last published piece, whatever I wrote about Home, hit like a lightening bolt to the heart of a man in France suffering a divorce. He wasn’t going to open the email and I wasn’t going to publish the piece when I did. Ask Alex how many times I texted him to say, 1.) “maybe not today. 2.) okay, maybe later. 3.) Ummm, 4 p.m. 4). I think noon would be best. I hit the button quickly at 11:17 a.m. - the exact time this man would open the email hesitantly. You can read our comments.
All the years of serendipity, were the buildup of a sanctified understanding of what God wants of me, of all of us. There have been so many moments walking past people, then turning around. A young man in New York City, sitting, crouched against a run-down building, hustle of feet rushing by, hood over his face, God throwing out His fishing rod, reeling me back to the young man who asked me for nothing but prayer. Maybe socks? if we could help protect his sad feet. This could be my son. So many times I say “God you are so good. You know who who needs me and who I need.”
Whenever I got down about my photography business, my husband would say, “but you know this is your ministry.” How fast we forget why we are here on this earth.
So go on this journey in your grief. Ask Him to show you the way. Pray, be patient. It can be a scary, treacherous path in a world of trippers and fire setters. There is a way with the Waymaker. Close your eyes, take His hand, climb into His cocoon, shelter as long as you need and know that sometimes “rejection is protection.” The beautiful words, the love you will glean from the hands that hold you, are meant to be passed on. You might think you are doing nothing and yet you are exactly where you are meant to be.
Enjoy the life given because there is always a much bigger purpose for it. Jesus took all the punishment, all that pain, to reconcile us to Him through God’s love, mercy and grace.
We can do this.
My new friend is not defined by abandonment, estrangement, a worldly label, or what others might think or say. She is a child of God. We are children of God. He will use our misfortune, and often our fortune, for His good.
The surprise? All you lost, craved, or thought you ever wanted, separates and slowly tumbles away. The brokenness puts you back together, transforms, and teaches you to live in the moment, ..not for the moment. To cherish what you had, what you have, and go forward.
His Love out front.
Focused on the Conductor.
This is the greatest symphony ever written.
Serendipitous discipleship…
“Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten.” — David Ogden Stiers
Here’s another piece about the ties that bind us.
Beautiful piece Deborah! Thank you for sharing.
So beautiful. Amazing how God orchestrates out lives if we pay attention.